Perfect (Love in Yorkshire #1)

Eight

The next few days and that the entire weekend, Connor was notably absent which was a colossal relief. He didn’t even show up for my birthday meal which didn’t bother me. I was mortified by what had happened after the party and his vanishing act allowed me an appropriate amount of time for some essential wound licking.

It turned out that my dad had bought me a car, a fucking car! Who does that? I was grateful of course until I caught Connor’s expression when he saw it. He shot me one of those looks that made me feel like an overindulged brat again. I couldn’t even drive the thing and still had to apply for my provisional license.

“Connor can teach you,” dad had suggested at breakfast. Yeah right, I’d rather chew my own fingers off.

On Thursday morning, I watched Connor glumly from my room. He was in the yard in all his male glory. My new mini also sat there, gleaming and new and un-driven with its perfect shiny paintwork. It even had go-faster stripes! I’d sat in it a few times, of course, not wanting to appear ungrateful but in the dusty surroundings, it stood out; an example of two different worlds almost. I so wished my father hadn’t gone for such a big gesture. My mum had sent me a necklace from Pandora and a card.

I stood ogling Connor from my window like a proper sad case. He was working on one of the main barns which housed the cows, his now shirtless body taunting me as I appraised every chiselled angle. He made me think of that scene in Top Gun where the guys are playing volleyball on the beach half-naked. Every girl’s wet dream I imagined. His tattooed sleeve screamed ‘sex on legs’.

I had tried my hardest to keep my distance, but my dad had put an end to that at breakfast when he hinted that I could give Connor a hand with some ‘light’ repairs he’d been working on. A black eye was my preference.

The thought of Connor ordering me about without bringing up what had happened in the car was going to be tough, but I was determined to appear unaffected, and under no circumstances would I give him any ammunition to throw back in my face. Longing looks were now out of the question and if he was still shirtless when I got downstairs, I’d pinch myself as a distraction if necessary .

I pulled on baggy sweats and a tee and left my room, the air was muggy, hence the probable reason for Connor stripping off in the first place. Either that or he knew I was watching and did it to torture me. The body I had expected beneath his clothes was definitely well worth the wait, washboard abs; everything. The whole manly package could force a girl to foam at the mouth.

I chewed the inside of my cheek as I waited in front of the barn like an abandoned puppy, wondering where the hell he’d suddenly disappeared to. I ran my hands across my pink joggers feeling like a first-class loser. I’d chosen the baggiest T-shirt I’d brought which fell off one shoulder and revealed my bra strap. It was comfortable but still sexy, in a voluminous kind of way. I’d strategically opted for a lacey black bra, again suggestive but also the perfect shade to match my mood.

My body tensed as he appeared, at last, striding out from around the side of the house with that determined expression on his face, a look that I had now become so accustomed to. He still wore the jeans he’d had on earlier but thankfully had pulled on a snug-fitting, black button-down with paint marks on it. At least I could refrain from that foaming now.

Connor wore a tool belt that sat low on his hips. The mundane thing carried hammers and spanners FFS, but my libido still decided it added to the hotness. Let the nipping commence!

Connor Barratt looked very much the part of your typical contractor but less weathered, more like the models you saw in the ads, who were too perfect to be true and had probably never picked up a spanner in their lives.

“Mike said you’d offered to help?” he put in cynically, a blatant ‘as if’ message underpinning his words.

I felt like flipping him the finger but thankfully restrained myself. “Yes well, I had nothing better to do so—,” I did a fluttery thing with my hand. WTF was that ?

Connor cleared his throat.

“Let’s crack on then. I see you’ve dressed the part,” he smirked as his eyes shot up and down my body.

It took effort but I smiled. Not a genuine one, of course, I was annoyed that he’d made a point of commenting on my shapeless clothing. Spawn of Satan.

I wrinkled my nose .

“What did you imagine I’d wear; a tight dress and heels?” I drawled sarcastically.

He chuckled which knocked me and an actual smile followed, if the cruel curve to his mouth could be called that of course.

His gaze roamed over me again, this time quite provocatively. My pulse twitched.

“You don’t want to know what I imagine you wearing Harlow.”

I blushed; yup, an actual blush swept across my skin, staggered by his veiled compliment. I then exhaled noisily and bit back my retort. What the hell? Talk about split personality. The guy could give Jekyll/Hyde a run for his/their money.

Connor raised his perfect eyebrows as he moved past me, lips twisted, motioning for me to follow with a flick of his head.

“Come on then, let’s see what you’ve got.”

I totally didn’t appreciate that comment. As far as spanner wielding went, I had very little to give. Unless I needed to throw it at his head, now that, I may be able to pull off.

His hair was mussed like he’d not long since crawled out of bed and I quickly shook off my growing contemplation of what that would look like. Imagining Connor in bed? When the hell had I become such a pervert?

“So, I’ll patch the roof and you hold the ladder. I may need you to pass me stuff. I take it you’re all right with heights?”

I nodded my head without giving his question any actual thought. The number of ladders I’d climbed would be around the zero mark and so who knew right?

“You’re a bit on the scrawny side, but you should be able to stop it from sliding?”

He spoke to me like you would a five-year-old and I gave him another tight-lipped nod as we stopped beside the bottom of said scary-assed ladders. I batted his scrawny comment to one side as I peered up; they were huge and were already extended to what surely had to be their full height. My stomach turned over. At least he didn’t expect me to go up there, or did he? I narrowed my eyes.

“I need to finish the section I was working on this morning. You put your feet here and here to hold the ladder in place and then grip it with both hands. It shouldn’t go anywhere really, the grounds fairly even, so you can lose the terrified expression.”

I almost saluted him .

‘Yes, Mein Fuhrer!’ I thought, watching the display of where I should stand through squinted eyes.

Connor shot me a condescending look before twisting away and darting up the ladder with admirable speed, the muscles of his perfect backside flexing. I so wanted to bite it, either that or sink my fingernails into it. I didn’t even care if I damaged my manicure.

As he got to the top, I did as he instructed and straddled the metal with my feet, wrapping my fingers around the cold steel. I sure hoped it didn’t slide anywhere as I seriously doubted that I’d be able to stop it anyway. Connor was right, my arms had always been on the thin side, no matter how much resistance training I did.

“OK?” he shouted down and I nodded to alleviate any concern. My tongue had decided to abandon me it appeared. I probably resembled one of those nodding dogs from the Churchill Insurance advert. It was like I couldn’t get my throat to work.

As Connor pulled tools out of his belt and started working, my eyes were creased against the sun. It was impossible not to notice how his muscles moved with each movement and the sight of his denim-encased backside was a picture that would probably be carved into my memory for a very long time. The thing could sell postcards!

I dragged my head away, disgusted with myself, and tried to concentrate on my duty, purposefully glaring at one of the rungs of the ladder.

I was still pissed off after the way he’d mugged me off in the car. He’d had the perfect opportunity to kiss me and I’d been certain that he’d wanted to. I saw that type of expression on guys all the time.

I replayed the scene in my head, wondering if I had imagined it again and that maybe I would have to deal with the fact that there was one guy that just didn’t really fancy me. It was a hard pill to swallow. It felt so strange. I’d lived through my teens with boys literally throwing themselves at me like starved animals. I’d even checked myself out naked in the mirror last night, wondering if everything was going droopy. I’d soon dragged my robe on, of course, annoyed with myself for my superficial thoughts .

I cringed thinking back to my original intention of keeping my distance from Connor whilst staying here. Look how good that was going. I felt like the Queen of all failures.

The ladder suddenly vibrated with Connor’s weight as he started to climb back down, his booted feet appearing level with my face. Thank goodness whatever he’d had to do was quick. I stepped back to allow him space to climb off and he turned to face me, I noted again how my head barely reached his shoulder.

It was then that it happened. I made that foolish decision to glance up at him through my lashes; it was the oldest girlie trick in the book, but it happened on an impulse. Our eyes locked and I held my breath, again those fireworks vibrating through my chest. Connor’s face was unreadable but he had to feel it; that pull that chemistry. Every muscle in my body screamed for attention.

He scratched his jaw before quickly unclipping the tool belt without looking away and dropping it to the floor with a clunk. I didn’t follow the movement; it felt physically impossible to avert my eyes.

“Stop it,” he cautioned in a low voice, heavy with emotion, but he didn’t move away and that gave me my answer.

Giddiness swamped me as he raised his hand and pushed a stray strand of my hair behind my ear, warmth blossoming in my belly. Our bodies were so close, but who knew who’d moved to reduce that small space between us? The sun caressed my cheeks as Connor continued to stare down at me, into me even, and my temperature soared

And then my control snapped.

I took advantage, pushing up onto my tiptoes and fusing my mouth against his. I heard his breath hitch, startled by my actions as I cushioned myself against him; my fingers clutching at his biceps for balance.

My pulse took off as Connor reacted instinctively and his arms slid around my waist pulling me further against him, our legs together, my chest flush against the lower part of his. I felt the muscles in his arms flex with the movement and it turned me on even more. Closing my eyes, I gently slid my tongue against his lips, unsure, hoping he’d take the lead.

And he did. His mouth opened and he took control .

His tongue swept into my mouth, thick and demanding and it felt fricking amazing . My entire body was on fire and I surrendered myself wholeheartedly to that feeling, greedily savouring everything he had to give and take.

Just when I thought it couldn’t get any more deliciously insane, he deepened the kiss further; slanting his head, the thrust of his tongue moving determinedly against my own, stroking and coaxing as I attempted to match his technique. I sighed against his mouth, revelling in his experience. At some point his hands left my waist and moved up, sliding over my face to cup my jaw, angling my head where he wanted it to go. It felt so right, heat throbbed between my legs and I wished at that moment that he would reach down and touch me there.

I inhaled his masculine scent which pushed my breasts further against the hardness of his chest, his hands caressing my face, leading me, branding me.

Desire like I’d never experienced was raging and I felt a tremor run through my body as Connor growled against my mouth. I felt the long, sleek length of him hard against my stomach as his tongue continued to taste me. Driving in and out of my mouth like the act of sex itself.

So, this is what sexual excitement was like. It was shocking and exhilarating at the same time and my response was out of control. I didn’t give a damn that anyone could walk by and see us; all I cared about was feeding the hunger that had throbbed within me since that first moment I had seen him. That split second when our eyes had connected and that strange something had rushed through me.

My heart hammered in my chest as his fingers now sank into my hair and he cradled the back of my head. As he continued to kiss me, I became vaguely aware of a buzzing in my brain.

A car engine revved up the driveway, rudely smashing into my consciousness and tearing us apart. He pulled away first and I felt like someone had torn a limb off. I was trembling and touched my lips with my fingers, trying to calm the hell down. Connor was quicker to recover and moved back, gently setting me away from him, and splitting that special connection that had bound us. My own body was too affected by the feelings I was experiencing and I stumbled forward but Connor shot out a hand to steady me.

“Easy,” he whispered, as I tried to regain my balance .

My face was on fire as we maintained eye contact, irrespective of the interruption, and a silent message passed between us. It was almost painful, but I pulled my gaze away to see my dad parking the car. Rachel was with him waving frantically. Of all the bloody times!

We both turned to face them, putting an even more respectable distance between our two bodies.

Connor’s fists clenched and unclenched by his sides and guilt and embarrassment started to bleed into me.

OMG, I had just kissed my stepbrother like some type of high school slut. I never made the first move and worse than that, had my father and Rachel seen it? The thought cast a proper frantic cat among my pigeons and my gaze narrowed as they approached us. I attempted to weigh up the possibility and repercussions in my head.

Both my dad and Rachel’s faces were fairly impassive. If they had seen us, they didn’t appear fazed by it. Heat continued to steal into my cheeks and I smoothed back my hair in fear that there was a tell-tale sign of what we had just been doing.

They trotted towards us and I continued to assess their expressions but still didn’t see anything to be too concerned about. That would certainly be an embarrassing conversation to have with Rachel on what would be the first time I’d seen her since the anniversary party.

“You kid’s all right? All OK today?” Dad put in doing the whole ‘looking from one to the other thing’ which made my heart skip a beat. Shit, one of us had to speak soon or it just looked plain weird. Maybe he thought we’d been arguing again? Yes, fighting. That would be better!

I struggled to peel my tongue away from the roof of my mouth as Connor moved toward his mother, his composure now firmly back in place. I couldn’t think straight and was afraid my tongue would trip me up.

“Dad. Rachel!” I blurted out in a high-pitched squeak. It was one of those tones that surely only dogs could hear and I added insult to it by making another weird fluttery gesture with my hand. What the hell was with the hand thing? That was new .

Connor shot me a pointed look and I clamped my mouth closed, obeying his silent message to shut the fuck up, running my hands through my hair again to halt the hand thing.

“How’s Gran?” he asked, begrudgingly accepting the hug from his mother in an ‘if I show any emotion, it makes me weak’ way. A typical misguided boy thought.

My lips were still throbbing from our kiss but I tried my hardest to concentrate and look normal. Were they the same size or would they appear swollen? Swollen with lust. Slut, slut, slut!

“She’s OK, on the mend. I’ll tell you all about it all later sweetie,” Rachel replied as she kissed his cheek.

“So, Harlow. What do you think of the farm; you settling in OK?” she questioned, with a warm smile.

I reined in the desire to laugh hysterically and managed to deliver a semi-normal smile.

“Yes, thanks. It’s cool,” I said. She beamed at my words and dad put his arm around her shoulders in a loving gesture. I suppose it should have bothered me but weirdly it didn’t. It was blatantly obvious that he was happier now and to be honest, I had my own shit to deal with. My stomach dipped with a bit of sympathy for my mother back in London and I realised how I hadn’t heard from her since my birthday.

The conversation flowed around me and I attempted to join in but they were mainly discussing Rita, Rachel’s mother, and her current health scare.

“Anyway, I have to unpack. I have washing coming out of my ears. I’ll catch you both later at supper,” Rachel said with a parting shot.

Dad did another glance between Connor and me before following her into the house, muttering something about an overdue gas bill.

I pursed my lips.

There it was again, that tense silence. We stood there, side by side, the murmur of farm equipment in the distance. I hated awkward silences.

Finally, Connor broke the quiet. “It never happened,” he stated flatly, collecting the tool belt from the floor.

His words ruffled me.

Coward, my insides screamed and I moved to look up at him. He didn’t turn to face me and remained looking across at the house. I felt like screaming, not wanting to believe that he was doing that denial thing—again! I was now past hiding.

“Really Connor? Now, who’s being childish? I kissed you and you kissed me back.” I hated to admit it but his words had driven a stake of pain through my heart.

A rush of crimson flashed across his God-like cheekbones. Good, I thought, you deserved it.

I gave it a couple of beats before I walked away, giving him the chance to take it back and admit that he’d wanted it too.

Unfortunately, I made an unintentional pig-like noise before strutting away towards the house, now desperate to shed the silly clothes I had decided to wear. After I’d taken a few steps, I stopped and turned. Connor was still standing in the same place, watching me with a guarded expression.

“Oh, and Connor?” I said, raising my voice to ensure he heard me. Our eyes were locked again and he angled his head slightly which was the only sign that I had his attention.

“I can assure you that it did— happen that is.”

His jaw tightened and I blew him a pantomime-style kiss.

He’d kissed me back and he knew it, it was written in every regretful contour on his face. The fucker did have a weakness for me.

My sense of victory was immense and I twisted away, biting back the desire to taunt him further.

He wanted me, just like all the others. The rules were mine and the outcome, if I wanted it, was inevitable. I turned away with a triumphant smile.

As I made my way to my room, I truly understood the saying of the cat that got the cream as I thought about the magic of Connor’s mouth against mine.

I had him. He may not like it but there was no doubt about it that Connor Barratt was as hot for me as all the others.

I entered my room and pulled the baggy top over my head, meeting my face in the mirror. I paused with my fingers in the waistband of my sweatpants, eyeing the girl in the glass. She seemed different like something had changed. Like the little lost girl was gone and the confident seventeen-year-old that I was, had finally risen.

*****

After a lengthy, much-needed shower, I padded back into my room from the bathroom, brushing my freshly conditioned hair. As I threw the hairbrush onto my bed, I turned towards the dressing table to see a small bunch of flowers on the side.

I approached with a frown, had they been there when I’d come in?

They were laid over a postcard of a seaside setting and I pulled the card out to see handwriting on the back.

Happy Belated Birthday, Con x .

The ache that came with thoughts of Connor returned and my face lit up.

The flowers were tied together with a piece of string and had obviously been handpicked. They were also wildflowers which of course immediately made me think of Connor.

I allowed the wave of pleasure to wash over me as I re-read the card and then another thought popped in there. Connor must have entered my room, whilst I was in the shower. That sent another shard of excitement into me.

Trotting over to the window, with the card, held lovingly against my chest, I searched for Connor in the yard below. He was in the process of attaching some machinery to the back of the tractor and he froze suddenly as if sensing he was being watched.

My eyes ate him up, his broad shoulders flexed as he stopped fiddling with the attachment. He wore thick leather gloves that only added to my excitement. The tats on his arm screamed bad boy.

I bit my lip as he turned his head and looked up towards my window. Our eyes met and I smiled back at him, flicking the card towards him in a thank you gesture. He returned my smile with a curt nod of his dark head before turning back to his task.

I literally danced away from the window and collected the flowers so I could pop them in some water, grinning ear to ear. Pleasure fizzed through me, his gesture had been so romantic and so not what I had expected, which only made it more special.

After popping downstairs for a vase to display the flowers in, I must have sat back on my bed admiring them for ages.

My first bunch of flowers and just like the pleasure and feeling pumping through my body, I hope they and it never died.

I spent the next couple of hours reading in my room and then dropped my mother a call. It was still fairly early in the evening and so she wouldn’t have cracked open the bottle just yet. The conversation was positive and more coherent than usual which was good. Thankfully, my time away from home seemed to have changed my mother’s usual routine.

She said she was feeling really good about herself and that she was actually enjoying having some space.

I wasn’t sure how to take that at first, if I went home and she’d turned my room into a gym the shit would hit it. She also explained that Phil from the supermarket was due to come over and that they would share a pizza and then watch the British Bake Off together. I held back my grim reply, Phil had a bit of a body odour issue but he was pleasant enough for an old person. I batted the spiteful thought aside and we said our goodbyes. When had I become such a bitch?

My phone pinged and I swiped the screen to see I had a message from Tom. He was apologising again for the party and asked how I was. I ignored his question and decided to use this as an opportunity to raise a few questions of my own.

Everything is fine. By the way, do you know if Connor is on any medication?

I dropped onto the bed as I awaited his reply.

Why do you ask?

It appeared he was still a ‘typical guy’ answering a question with a question. I batted down my annoyance.

Someone at the party said something about him ‘not taking his meds’, I’m just being nosey. It would explain a lot is all.

I popped a LOL emoji at the end, so I didn’t appear overly concerned.

I didn’t hear that, good job Connor didn’t either .

I frowned before keying in. Why? My curiosity was bubbling towards the boil.

It seemed like forever before he responded and I moodily eyed the ‘Tom is Typing’ icon. Of course, he was answering me in boy time.

He’s really private about stuff like that.

I went in for the kill and repeated my question.

So, he is on medication?

I pulled my phone guiltily into my chest and eyed the door as footsteps passed my room. Connor’s door banged shut and his usual shit music started up.

I glanced back at my iPhone. Yeah, for three years now, I think? Tom had responded.

‘Tom is Typing’ appeared again and I held off my reply.

I shouldn’t really say any more to be honest. I don’t want him to go crazy on my ass. You haven’t seen him when he loses his shit.

The next conversation was a bit back and forth and I found it incredibly frustrating.

What are they for ? I texted without shame, I needed to know.

You can’t say anything if I tell you.

I chewed the inside of my cheek as I typed in my reply. I won’t say a word. We don’t have a close type of relationship so why would I? Spill it Wade.

Eventually, he caved.

They’re to chill him out, calm him down. Surely, you’ve noticed he has serious anger management issues.

The penny still didn’t drop . I thought about the harsh conversations I’d had with him and yes, he’d been a mean bastard but apart from the party, I hadn’t actually seen him lose his shit to an extreme degree. Even at the anniversary do, when he had been downright rude, he’d been calm and controlled the whole time.

I thumbed in my reply.

Nope. Not really. Nathan’s was the first time I’d seen him kick-off and it wasn’t THAT bad. He’s a shit to me most of the time, but he doesn’t seem overly aggressive.

I shuffled across the bed and plugged my charger in as the phone beeped to notify me that the battery was low .

Tom messaged again.

Please delete this conversation. If Connor found out I’d been talking about him, he’d kick my face in.

He added a worried-looking emoji which made me smile.

Will do and don’t worry. Thanks for the Intel. Speak later.

I was running the meds thing through my mind and was just about to place my phone on the bedside table as another message beeped in from Tom.

A group of us are going into Scarborough Friday night for drinks, you brave enough?

I pondered my answer for a couple of minutes before responding.

Pub crawl type of thing?

Yes . Tom responded. Maybe a club?

My nose wrinkled of its own accord.

I thumbed in my reply.

I don’t think they’ll let me in and I don’t have a fake ID or anything.

My phone buffered again and I moved it around the room, attempting to find a signal.

We can play it by ear. If you don’t get in, we can go for food or something. Dirty kebabs?

I grinned, Lisa used to go on about dirty meat and how it helped with the hangover process.

I’ll think about it. I responded.

He sent me an eye-rolling emoji and two kisses. I was pleased with the level of ‘safe’ banter with Tom and I hoped that this was a sign that any romantic notions he’d originally felt, would eventually dry up altogether. One could only hope so. Tom being interested in me would only complicate things. It was hard enough dealing with Connor, let alone anyone else. I definitely wasn’t a triangle girl.

I shuffled further back onto the bed and closed my eyes for a while.

*****

Fashioning a fresh pair of skinny jeans and a cream, lightweight blouse, I made my way to look for Dad and hopefully find some dinner. I’d been asleep for the last two hours and my stomach felt hollow. Anna usually served up around now, but the kitchen was empty and there was no sign of cooking. As I grabbed an apple from the fruit bowl on the table, I glanced out of the back window into the garden. Dad was standing in front of a BBQ with smoke billowing out around him. I pulled a face and popped back the apple. He’d never been the best of cooks, if he was the chef, it was probably going to be inedible. My God, how I would have killed for a big mac and fries right then.

I moved towards the back door, but low voices stopped me in my tracks. I strained to listen. Great, now I was a nosy bitch as well as a slut. Life on the farm appeared to be moulding a whole new me.

My brain seemed to be supplying my feet with mixed messages but I persevered, shuffling forward, wincing at the tap-tap from my sandals. The thought of being caught eavesdropping was not one I relished and I felt a sick sensation pool in the pit of my stomach.

I pursed my lips and circled around, cocking my head, trying to establish where the voices were coming from.

It was Rachel and Connor and it sounded like they were in Dad’s study. I fought against going to listen, but curiosity got the better of me as the exchange started to get heated. OMG, what if Rachel had seen the kiss and they were talking about me? I cursed myself and added ‘self-involved’ to the personality traits of the new me.

“—need to be more careful—knows where Gran lives and could easily have followed you from there. I thought you were coming back last week when he was still inside?” Connor’s voice was stern as usual.

“I couldn’t leave her, she looked shocking,” Rachel replied, her voice paper thin. “And will you stop worrying? He doesn’t even know she’s been ill.”

Who the hell were they talking about? Inside what?

“Bullshit. You usually visit the first weekend of every month. You need to change it. You know what we were told about regular patterns of behaviour for fucks sake.”

I could hear every word clearly and any guilt I may have felt in the first instance vanished as I saw they’d left the office door wide open. It surely couldn’t be that top secret if they hadn’t closed themselves in there.

I folded my arms and stood on the inside of the kitchen. Rachel and Connor’s voices were now being clearly carried down the corridor and from my new position, I could make a quick escape if the need arose.

“I’d rather you not use that language Connor and we need to talk about this later, Mike’s making supper.”

“Screw supper. I think this conversation is a little more important than fucking food.”

I heard Rachel clear her throat and then there was silence and I shuffled back slightly, so they wouldn’t see me half sticking out of the kitchen if they left the room.

“I don’t think we have anything to worry about. I took a different route on the way back and stopped several times. Just as I said I would.”

“You should have come back when you said you would. What if Martha’s spoken to him, you know she’s a fucking busybody.”

I heard shuffling footsteps as they made their way around the room and poised myself for flight, just in case.

My mind raced as I tried to process everything they were saying. They were talking about a man and one that they were hiding from for some reason.

I heard the patio doors in the study being opened.

Rachel’s voice became quieter as she moved away.

“Please Connor, just let it go. We’re safe. You’ve nothing to worry about. He’s out but he will have moved on by now, he’s let us both go.”

Another silence followed. Were they talking about Connor’s father?

Connor’s voice was strained and angry, the pitch not at all pleasant and I felt a wave of worry. This wasn’t good.

“Safe, that’s an interesting word. We will never be safe now the fuckers free and if I ever see him again, I’ll wipe the floor with him.”

Rachel’s voice shot up an octave and I started to regret my decision to eavesdrop. Now afraid of what I was hearing.

“You need to see Doctor Mitchell again Connor, please. Mike said that you’ve been struggling.”

I was now certain that Connor’s father was the person they were discussing. I stored the word ‘safe’ into my memory, deciding to deal with that piece of information later. A new and unsettling realisation that I might have misjudged his situation, needled away at me.

“Fuck that, I’ve had enough of that shit and feeling half asleep all the time. I’m doing things my way now.”

So, Connor had stopped taking his ‘chill out’ medication. Fuck! My hands started sweating.

“Rachel, Connor!” Dad’s voice cut in, immediately ending their conversation and I panicked.

“Coming,” Rachel shouted. “Look we’ll discuss this later. I’m your mother and you’ll do as I say.”

I’d never heard Rachel use that tone before and I was glued to the spot as I awaited Connor’s response.

His voice was low and nasty. He was close to losing his temper; I recognised the tone from Nate’s party.

“Really, so that’s what you are, bit late to be playing that fucking card. I’m out of here.” His voice was so cold and a chill rippled through me.

As I realised it was Connor leaving the room, I jumped forward to move away.

I must have caught a pan or something as I swung around and the metal fell to the floor, with the loudest clatter ever.

Adrenalin burst in my chest like a mushroom cloud as my red-faced stepbrother strode out of the study, his eyes searching the source of the noise. Those dark eyes met mine from my crouched position. I was in mid-retrieval of what was actually a baking tray and his face went from neutral to livid, he knew I’d been listening. I wanted to curl up and die.

That special moment between us from my bedroom window was lost.

Connor moved towards me shooting black daggers and I shoved the tray on the side with nervous hands, my mouth opening and closing as I fought for an excuse. My twitchy eye kicked in.

He was almost upon me when my focus was pulled past him as Rachel appeared, a flushed look on her face. She paused momentarily when she saw me, her recovery swift, her expression showing no trace of concern.

“Harlow, sweetie. I was just coming to get you for dinner,” she said with a catch in her voice .

Connor stopped advancing, his fists clenched at his sides, he looked larger than life, a tight black T-shirt hugging his huge shoulders. His eyes never left my face and he didn’t turn to his mother at the sound of her voice.

Talk about awkward. His expression glittered in a way that made the air thump from my lungs. He was angry. Even his tattooed arm seemed to bristle.

Rachel brushed past her son.

“Con was just about to take over from your father. He isn’t the best cook your dad, as I imagine you’re more than aware of.” She smiled, but I could tell she was uncomfortable. Probably because Connor just continued to stand there in silence glaring at me.

He was as still as a statue and I took a step forward and recovered myself, craning my head to Rachel.

“Cool. I’m starving,” I replied breezily, not wanting to cause a further scene.

Rachel trotted over to me. She was also slight in build but still taller than I was.

She squinted at Connor as we made our way toward the backdoor.

“Connor, are you coming?”

I turned back to meet his eyes again, but he dragged his gaze away and shot his mother a look that could have melted glass. My heart leaped in my chest.

Temper oozed from him and his mouth had thinned.

“I’ve lost my appetite,” he drawled before turning around and heading through the hallway with determined steps. The front door slammed angrily, shaking the windows in the kitchen and my leaping heart sank.

I worried my lip as I glanced nervously up at Rachel but she had gathered herself again and she ushered me through the back door, muttering something about kids.

I needed to shelve the chaos in my head for now and play nice to get through supper.

The smell in the air was divine. I had always loved that BBQ smell that came with summer. That and cut grass. Rachel and I went over to dad who appeared to be wearing a woman’s apron, but I didn’t smile. I was too worried about Connor. There were way too many thoughts swimming around my head.

My father was also wielding BBQ tools and looked completely out of his comfort zone. Weren’t all men supposed to be born with the ability to BBQ ?

He twisted his head as we approached and his face was flushed red, either from the heat of the grill or from the stress of attempting to cook.

“There you are. You look nice love,” Dad said as he briefly glanced over before focusing on the overdone burger he was cremating. “Both my girls do,” he beamed.

Rachel and I exchanged glances with knowing smiles.

“Need a hand there?” she laughed as she unhooked her arm from mine and retrieved the BBQ tongs from my father.

“I thought you’d never ask. Did you speak to Connor?”

I saw Rachel’s shoulders stiffen and sucked in a ragged breath. Guilt dug in between my ribs.

“Yes, and It's fine. He isn’t eating though, so more for us!” She joked, but you could tell from the tremor in her voice that she was upset.

“Who’s for a burger?” Dad asked, swiftly changing the subject. I raised my hand and gave him a nod before heading over to take a seat on one of the patio chairs. The table was laid with various salads and what I imagined were tin foiled jacket potatoes and an array of sauces.

“I hope you like them well done?” Rachel put in. Of course, we all laughed, but it felt kind of forced.

Rachel and Dad buzzed around the BBQ, flipping burgers and turning sausages. I started picking at a burger bun as Dad took my plate.

My mind was a myriad of questions. I was no Nancy Drew but it was obvious from what they had discussed that Connor’s dad was the main focus and it wasn’t good. I knew from my father that Rachel’s relationship with her last husband had been hard, but the word ‘safe’ had rocketed my conclusions up to the next level. Had he been an aggressive wife-beating type? Was that why they were hiding? The thought made me sick to my stomach. Rachel was such a sweet lady and the thought of any physical abuse towards her made me angry. It was a deep-rooted anger, something I rarely experienced. My family life had been plain sailing compared to this, even with my mum and her drinking problems.

I thanked dad as he handed me back my plate and feigned interest as he and Rachel joined me and started to speak about the timings of the cattle show on Saturday .

I pushed my summations to the back of my mind as there was no point in dwelling on it or jumping to conclusions. I would speak with Dad about it when we next had our chill-out time together, but maybe not straight away. I wanted my dad to be with Rachel that evening as no doubt she needed to update him on her quarrel with Connor.

I took a bite of burger, it luckily tasted better than it looked and I added another blob of ketchup to an extra charred edge; my eyes flicking back and forth between my dad and his wife.

Whatever Connor thought of me, whatever his pain, I was part of this family now and I needed to know what was going on. I refused to be left in the dark, like when my parents were struggling yet ‘pretending’ to be happy. I was now a young adult and it was my duty to help and protect the family where I could. I’d get the truth out of my father one way or another and if that failed, I’d go to Connor.

We all ate our body weight in burnt burgers and sausage and I helped Rachel to wash the dishes. We spoke about the usual stuff, although she did bring up ‘boys’ at one point, a topic I steered her away from, taking into account I’d had her son’s tongue in my mouth earlier that day.

Rachel and Dad had decided on an early night which should have freaked me out but didn’t. I imagine they had a fairly healthy sex life. They still had that newlywed vibe and were still very touchy-feely in front of me. To be honest, I had too much on my mind to worry about that, as long as I didn’t hear any sex noises, I could cope.

I slipped my sandals back on and walked down the side of the house to the front to sit on the bench by the door; the place where I’d had my first conversation with Ella Wade. Another jigsaw piece in what was fast becoming a slightly clearer puzzle. I still had to learn about her story and whether or not it was intertwined with Connor. I now had my doubts. Her shit was definitely directed another way. At least I hoped so.

I checked my phone and saw that it was almost ten, Connor would have been gone who knew where, for the past two hours. I realised I didn’t even have his number and so couldn’t message him to check if he was OK. I’d deleted his text the night of the party. Not like he’d appreciate me texting him if I did.

I text my mother to say that I loved her as one thing was clear to me now, the breakup between my parents had been so much more straightforward compared to Connor’s parents. I kicked myself for my past judgements.

There was a reason Connor was the person he was; moody, unpredictable, difficult with everyone and not just me. I should have felt relieved but I didn’t. The thought of him hurting somewhere was causing me actual discomfort.

I closed my eyes and recalled what I had learned so far.

Rachel was estranged from her husband as was her son, and either their divorce or living conditions whilst they were together had been corrosive, enough to mould Connor into a person who had anger issues. From Connor’s reaction to his father finding Rachel, it had sounded like the guy was one nasty dude. The discussion also suggested that he was possibly abusive when they were married or as a result of her leaving him? Either way it was pretty toxic shit.

I continued to think about the possibilities. Maybe due to what had happened between his parents, Connor had been put on medication but had stopped taking them against his mother’s wishes, hence the mood swings.

There was still so much more I needed to know. Suddenly, a night out in town was more appealing. It would also give me the chance to grill his friends to see what they knew.